


Muriel's Wedding

by Squishmitten



Series: Wolfeshead Island [3]
Category: Holby City
Genre: Chickens!, F/F, Fluff, Romance, The wedding!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 07:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14491911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squishmitten/pseuds/Squishmitten
Summary: Serena and Bernie are getting married! Bernie hadn't thought that far ahead when she proposed. She would do anything to make Serena happy. Apart from wearing a big white dress. Some lines just needed to be drawn.





	Muriel's Wedding

It was the morning after Bernie’s rather unconventional marriage proposal. At dawn, she had gently unwrapped herself from the loving embrace of her brand new fiancée’s arms, to make sure Jason was fed, and to check on the chickens. Yes, Muriel was still in with the rest of the girls. 

“Oh no. I’m actually thinking of her as Muriel now. It’s a slippery slope, Jason. A very slippery slope.” She told her beloved malamute, who grumbled in return. “I’ll be keeping a careful eye on that one, my boy. I still have no idea how she got out, the wily old bird.”

Back indoors, Bernie started to make a pot of coffee. She intended to thoroughly spoil and pamper her beloved all weekend, and that included breakfast in bed. She checked on the frozen pain au chocolat and croissants she had put in the oven earlier. Five more minutes and they would be perfect. Bernie put together the tray, with a lacy cloth and the nice china, both of which had been favourites of her mother’s. 

Bernie carefully carried the loaded tray upstairs and peered round the bedroom door. She was surprised to see Serena awake, sitting up and writing in a notebook. Serena was not naturally an early riser, particularly so on a day off.

“Morning my love, I wasn’t sure you’d be awake this early. I was planning on rousing you with coffee and pastries.” Bernie placed the tray on the side then planted a tender kiss on her fiancée’s lips. 

“Good morning, darling. I’ve just been jotting down a few things. Wedding plans. When, where and who. That kind of thing.” Serena’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. 

Bernie sat rather heavily on the edge of the bed. Wedding. She had been thinking so hard about how to ask Serena to marry her, she hadn’t spared a single thought for what came next. Bernie had never been one of those women who had dreamt about and planned a big white wedding since girlhood. Even when she had been engaged, she had never really spared much of a thought about an actual wedding day. 

“Gosh. The wedding. I hadn’t got that far. Erm, I’m guessing you want more than just the pair of us in a registry office?” 

“Well if...if that’s all you want, we can. I don’t want to push you into anything you’re going to be unhappy with.” 

Bernie stood and retrieved the tray from the dressing table.

“Come on lovely, let’s have our breakfast and talk about how we’re going to do this. We can find a level that will keep us both happy. As long as you don’t try to get me in a big white dress. That is non-negotiable!” 

 

Over the course of the weekend, wedding plans were discussed at length. It turned out that Serena didn’t want something huge and elaborate. She had been pushed into the big, traditional ceremony the first time round, and look how well that had turned out. This was to be more about the people and a simple, but heartfelt declaration of love and commitment. 

They decided on a small and simple ceremony on the island, with a marquee for if the weather was poor and they had the option to retreat into the house if the weather turned too terrible. Serena would offer the use of her house on the mainland to any of the guests who wanted to stay there, and they would charter a boat to ferry the guests to Wolfeshead Island and back.

Having no family, Bernie only wanted to invite a couple of old Army friends. Serena, also with no remaining blood relatives, wanted some of her old Holby family to be there. She fretted a little, and wondered if they would be willing to travel all the way North, after she had left them behind. Bernie reassured her that most of them would no doubt walk across hot coals for Serena. Serena was quite sure Bernie was more than a little biased. 

“So I need to decide who to invite other than Siân. Ric Griffin, Sacha Levy, Fletch, Henrik Hanssen, Morven Digby. What about Jac Naylor, Bernie? I doubt she’ll come, but would you like to see her again?”

“If you want. I had a lot of respect for Jac and her no-nonsense attitude. It’s entirely up to you though Serena. As long as I can invite Stubby and Sherlock, I’ll be happy.”

“Stubby and Sherlock are nicknames I assume? What did they call you? Let me guess. I doubt they’re too imaginative, so assuming Stubby is probably Stubbs, I’m going to go for ‘Wolfie’.” Serena looked across at her wife to be, for confirmation. “Bernie, you’re blushing! So it’s clearly not Wolfie then. Come on darling, tell all.”

Bernie muttered something inaudible and Serena just looked at her.

“Okay, okay they called me Fingers. And before you say anything, please remove your mind from the gutter. It was purely in reference to my surgical dexterity.”

Serena laughed. “I seem to recall you telling me they called you Silver Tongue. Were you telling me fibs to get me between the sheets, Major Wolfe?”

“Where you’re concerned Serena, I would hope both nicknames apply. Besides, it worked, didn’t it?” Bernie gave Serena an exaggerated, lascivious wink, making her laugh.

“I will admit that you made the first move Berenice. However, I think you’ll find that I got you between the sheets.”

 

Much later, after they had re-enacted their first time(s) together (except this time in the comfort of a bed) they returned to the subject of the guest list. It was decided that Serena would invite Siân, her six Holby City friends and Bernie would invite just two of her Army comrades, all with a possible plus one. 

“How do you feel about the possibility of up to 19 extra people on the island, Bernie? Are you sure you’ll be okay with that? I don’t want you to feel invaded in your own home. The island is your retreat after all. I don’t think for a moment all seven of mine will come _and_ bring a plus one, but there is the potential. We can always look at hiring a hall, or function room somewhere.” 

Bernie put her arm around Serena and pulled her closer. “Six months ago, it would have been almost unthinkable. Now, I love the thought of having the important people in our lives witness us committing to our future together. The other main reason to have the ceremony here is Jason. I want him there when I marry you.”

“Of course Jason has to be there! No matter where this wedding happens, Jason will be there, front and centre. He’s my hero, don’t forget. He saved my life. If you do decide you don’t want to hold it here, we will be finding a dog-friendly venue. End of.”

“Serena, I’m not going to change my mind. I can cope with a day of people on the island. I’ve just had a month of men and women coming and going, with the sustainable energy techs and the crew replacing the dock. Stop worrying so much about me. I’m hardly the reclusive hermit I once was.” She combed her fingers through Serena’s beautiful salt and pepper hair and pressed a kiss to her temple. “We’re having it here and it will be brilliant because I get to marry you. What more could I ask for?”

“You’re such an old romantic at heart, aren’t you?” 

“Shush, I have my macho Army medic reputation to uphold!”

**

The weeks passed, and arrangements were made. They found a registrar willing to travel to the island to perform the ceremony, hired a marquee, some tables and chairs and decided that between them, they would cook the food for the day themselves, including a wedding cake. There were long discussions about the types and quantities of drinks to buy. Top of the list naturally, was Shiraz, and beyond that Serena didn’t mind too much. They didn’t envision the day turning into a drunken knees up, but there would be plenty to make sure the party went with a swing. Serena had even reluctantly agreed to the purchase of champagne, a drink she considered highly overrated and overpriced. During this most untraditional of ceremonies, Bernie wanted something approaching a traditional champagne toast.

Serena was delighted to hear back that all of her Holby friends would be coming, apart from Morven, who had left Holby to work abroad. Serena was saddened that she wouldn’t get to see her surrogate AAU daughter, but at the same time was pleased that she had clearly moved on. She was very surprised that Jac Naylor’s RSVP was a yes, although her reply was in a typical acidic style. ‘I’ve booked a room at the only vaguely decent looking hotel that the area seems to offer. Therefore I won’t be slumming it at your house, Campbell.’ She suspected that Henrik must have pulled quite a few strings to allow so many consultants to take time off together. 

Fletch had let Serena know he would be bringing his daughter Evie as his plus one. This pleased Serena no end. There was immediately a stream of texts and emails back and forth after it was decided Evie would be bridesmaid. This entailed detailed discussions and negotiations regarding a dress. Fletch was glad Serena was helping with the outfit, even from so far away. Fashion was decidedly not his thing.

One slightly dark cloud over proceedings was that Siân wouldn’t be coming. She had a three month round the world cruise booked with her latest beau. Serena was bitterly disappointed that her oldest friend wouldn’t be there with her, but as she joked with Bernie - “At least the male wedding guests will be able to relax! Unlike the male contingent on the ship. Once she inevitably tires of her latest, she will undoubtedly be on the prowl for fresh meat.” 

It was decided that Jason would take on the rôle of ‘Best Dog’ and so a bow tie and pouch for the rings was procured, in exactly the same shade as Serena’s dress. The dress was colour of a fine Shiraz, naturally. Bernie had allowed herself to be persuaded by Stubby and Sherlock to wear her dress blues on the big day. In truth it hadn’t taken too much persuasion. It meant she didn’t have to think about her outfit, beyond retrieving her uniform from storage and getting it cleaned. Even better, she knew exactly what the sight of it would do to Serena. It would surely be a very memorable wedding night.

Plans slowly began to come together. All of Serena’s Holby City family decided to travel up together overnight on the sleeper train, to arrive on the morning of the wedding. Evie was particularly excited about sleeping in a bunk on a train like in an old film. Serena just hoped the girl wouldn’t be too disappointed when it didn’t turn out to be much like the Orient Express. She was surprised that Jac ‘I’m not slumming it’ Naylor hadn’t opted to fly up, until she heard that of course, she had booked First Class on the sleeper. Serena couldn’t help but wonder who her plus one would be. Jac wasn’t known for developing strong relationships, either romantic or platonic. 

 

A couple of days before the wedding, at the end of their last working day, a surprise party was thrown in the local pub. The staff at the Logan Street surgery lured Serena and Bernie to the Trawlerman’s Arms with talk of a quiet celebratory drink. It seemed like half the town, and three quarters of the population of the islands were crammed into the function room and bar of the small pub. Bernie in particular was incredibly touched that everyone have gone to such an effort. As usual, she underestimated just how popular she was with the patients and the staff. Not to mention the community group that was so grateful for the regular donations of eggs and the time Bernie now put in as a volunteer. Without realising it, over the past six months, she had become an integral part of her local community, and alongside Serena, had been taken into their hearts.

The next day, the eve of the wedding, wasn’t spent being pampered, getting drunk on a hen night or any other more traditional activities. It was spent furiously cooking and baking, including making their wedding cake. Neither of them wanted the old-fashioned fruit cake covered in marzipan and royal icing. Between them, Serena and Bernie baked a lovely lemon sponge, with lemon buttercream and topped with raspberries and crushed pistachios. Simple but beautiful. They went to bed tired, but happy there would be an impressive spread of food for the next day. 

Another tradition they had both steadfastly refused to entertain, was spending the night before the wedding apart. Serena contended that as it had taken them over 50 years to find each other, spending unnecessary nights apart was just not an option. Bernie agreed with anything that kept Serena in her arms. 

They had kept their wedding outfits secret, apart from Bernie knowing the colour of Serena’s dress and once changed, would hopefully not see each other until the ceremony itself. A thrill went through Bernie every time she thought about Serena’s reaction to seeing her in full dress uniform. Serena couldn’t wait for Bernie to see her in the Shiraz coloured silk dress that showed a generous amount of cleavage and showed off the clavicles that Bernie found endlessly sexy.

As the sky lightened, it was clear it was going to be a beautiful morning at least. The weather was an unpredictable beast, but the forecast had shown nothing but sunshine and blue skies for the day ahead. Bernie woke slowly, spooned around her bride to be. She buried her nose in Serena’s hair and hugged her a little closer.

“Good morning my darling.” Serena’s velvety voice was gravelly with sleep.

“You’re awake early. Excited about something perhaps?” Bernie kissed a little trail along Serena’s neck and felt her shiver in response.

“Mmmm. If you’re going to carry on like that Major, you’ll need to give me a couple of minutes to take care of some practicalities first.” 

“We should really get up and start getting our final preparations done,” replied Bernie, nuzzling Serena’s ear. “Shouldn’t we be saving ourselves for our wedding night, anyway?”

Serena turned in Bernie’s arms and peered at her, accusingly.

“I do believe I suggested that last night Ms Wolfe. I also believe your response was ‘Fuck tradition!’ before you proceeded to-”

Serena’s words were cut off by the press of Bernie’s lips before they both started laughing. Reluctantly they pulled apart, knowing they did need to get up and get on with things. They pulled on casual clothes, having decided to change into their wedding outfits at the last moment before the ceremony. Serena sighed and shook her head as she watched Bernie reach for her combats.

“Bernie. You know what they do to me. We still have a lot to do, and I don’t need to be distracted by the sight of you in sexy soldier mode.”

“They’re comfortable and practical Serena. I can’t be held responsible for them triggering your uniform kink, now can I?” Bernie unrepentantly pulled on the camouflage-patterned trousers.

“It’s not a uniform kink as such. It’s a ‘Bernie Wolfe in uniform’ kink. I have very niche tastes, what can I say?” 

Two could play at that game. In retaliation for the combats, Serena decided to put on the form-fitting, ribbed white vest top that she knew was a particular favourite of Bernie’s. Let’s see how well she could concentrate in the face of cleavage and clavicles! 

After several minutes of intense, passionate kisses they finally pulled apart, breathless. This was not getting the last of the wedding prep completed, nor was it getting Jason fed. Jason made that point very clear at that moment by scratching at the bedroom door. They looked at each other, and without a word, Bernie changed into jeans and Serena swapped the vest top for a navy t-shirt.

“You see to Jason and the girls, my darling and I’ll get the coffee brewing and some breakfast on the go.” She placed one last lingering kiss on her beloved’s lips and headed downstairs to the kitchen. 

 

Bernie was checking on the chickens, giving them their morning treat of their favourite grains and gathering any eggs that had been laid by the early risers of the flock. She suddenly felt as though someone was looking at her and turned to see Muriel’s beady eyes peering from the doorway of one of the coops. Bernie really didn’t trust the hen after her still as yet unexplained escapology act back in May.

“I’ve still got my eye on you, Muriel. No one other than Serena is allowed to bite my arse.”

After her now routine checking of the perimeter of the fencing surrounding the girls outdoor run, Bernie went back inside and was greeted with the delicious aromas of coffee and frying bacon. 

“Mmm, that smells wonderful Serena. I knew there was a reason I was marrying you. Shall I just keep you chained to the cooker once we’re hitched?” Bernie joked as she slipped her arms around Serena’s waist. 

“Given that you’re a very talented cook yourself, I would have thought you would prefer to keep me tied to the bed.” Serena tilted her head to the side to allow Bernie better access to the earlobe she was gently nibbling on, “Come on darling, breakfast is ready. The bacon sandwiches will set you up better for the day ahead than my ear.”

 

Between them, Serena and Bernie got the final preparations completed. The chairs were laid out on the grassy meadow where the picnic and proposal had taken place. As the day seemed destined to remain fine, the ceremony would happen outside. Inside the small marquee, a table for drinks, two for the food and some smaller tables to sit around had been placed outside. Bernie had rigged up a big barbecue made out of an old oil drum off to the side of the marquee for an evening barbecue before they sent the guests home.

The chartered boat containing the wedding guests and the registrar was due at 11.30. During the half hour before, they began loading the tables with food and brought out big tubs of ice in which they sat bottles of beer, soft drinks and white wine. Serena set some light classical music playing, fed to her Bose Bluetooth speaker and sighed.

“I think it looks perfect my darling, don’t you?” She felt Bernie’s arms snake around her waist. 

“Absolutely. And just in time for us to head down to meet the boat.”

 

They strolled down towards the dock, hand in hand, stealing kisses as they went. Jason was weaving back and forth in front of them, sniffing his way along hedges and tufts of grass. Bernie had his lead clipped around her neck. He had become fairly accustomed to having people on the island earlier on in the year, but he was a big dog and Bernie thought it best to have him on a lead until he and the guests were used to each other. Serena secretly wanted to see him jump up at Jac Naylor and give her a big slobbery kiss, just to see her reaction. 

“I’m nervous Bernie. Seeing everyone again after all this time, after I walked away.” Serena looked out to sea, trying to spot the charter boat.

“I can’t tell you not to be nervous, but I can point out that they have travelled a long way to be here today. They obviously still love you Serena, or they wouldn’t have come. Even the icy Jac Naylor must hold you in pretty high regard, to make the trip. Let’s face it, free food and booze will only go so far in luring people to an event, even a bunch of medics!”

Shortly, the boat came into sight and was expertly piloted up to the dock by the skipper. Between them, he and Bernie tied it off and the passengers stepped ashore on Wolfeshead Island. 

Henrik, immaculately dressed as usual was accompanied by an attractive blonde of about his own age, who was introduced as Roxanna MacMillan. A med school contemporary of Henrik’s and now neurosurgeon at Holby. 

Ric hadn’t changed a bit since Serena had last seen him. He introduced Donna Jackson, his friend, colleague and housemate. She reassured Serena that between them, they were taking good care of her former ward.

Sacha enveloped Serena in a huge bear hug the moment he stepped on to the dock. She realised how much she had missed his cozy, comforting nature. It was wonderful to see he had brought Essie with him too. So good that they had managed to stay such good friends after their romantic relationship had ended. 

Jac stepped onto the dock looking cool and collected as ever. She was accompanied by a figure that Serena found vaguely familiar. She was certainly not an easy person to forget, clad head to toe in black and purple, black hair in tight plaits, and dramatic dark makeup. They soon established that Serena started at Holby just a few weeks before Frieda left after her first stint at the hospital. 

Last of the Holby family to alight from the boat was Evie and Fletch. Evie was at least a head taller than the last time Serena had seen her, looking more grown up than ever. And Fletch? Well Fletch was a vision in a kilt and every single other aspect of a traditional Scottish wedding outfit. 

“I’m so sorry Serena. I tried and tried to talk him out of it, but as soon as he found out that there’s a Fletcher tartan, there was just no stopping him. He’s so embarrassing. At least he’s promised not to try and do an accent.”

“Don’t worry Evie, I should really have known your father wouldn’t be able to resist. Your dress looks lovely. We definitely made the right choice there.”

Introductions were made all round, with Serena meeting Bernie’s former comrades for the first time. Sergeant Tom ‘Stubby’ Stubbs, a theatre nurse and Captain Lisa ‘Sherlock’ Baker, an orthopaedic surgeon. 

Serena discovered that soldiers apparently found it hilarious to nickname a man who was 6 feet 3 inches tall ‘Stubby’ and that his surname was merely a bonus. A little more imagination had been used for Lisa when some genius made the Sherlock Holmes/Baker Street connection. She also found herself having to smother snorts of laughter when they repeatedly referred to Bernie as ‘Fingers’. 

Bernie looked across at Serena while she was chatting to Stubby and Sherlock, to see if there seemed to be any reaction to their dress uniforms. She appeared to be just chatting casually to the pair. No obvious signs of her getting hot and bothered. Either Bernie wasn’t going to get the reaction she very much hoped for when Serena saw her in full dress uniform, or she really did have a very specific ‘Bernie Wolfe in uniform’ kink! She would find out soon enough. Catching Serena’s eye, she gestured up the path, towards the house. 

“Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Serena called out to the group of guests, “I’m sure you’re all looking forward to getting a drink in your hands too.”

“Oi,oi!” Fletch. Naturally.

Serena found herself falling in step with Helen, the registrar who had kindly agreed to making the trip out and also to spending the day. She was a small, quiet woman.

“I really do appreciate you taking the time out to do this, Helen. We both so wanted to have the ceremony on the island.” 

“Och, that’s quite alright Ms Campbell. I was happy to do it. I love the islands and this will be almost like a day off for me.” She smiled shyly up at Serena, “I’ve always wondered what Wolfeshead looked like too.”

 

Back up at the marquee, Serena and Bernie got to work, opening bottles, pouring drinks and making sure everyone had a glass in their hand. They had decided between them that Serena would shower first and then Bernie. Serena wanting a little more time to put on her makeup and so on. Bernie would use the spare room to dress and Serena the master bedroom. They would then walk down together to join their guests and the wedding ceremony would begin. 

Serena slipped away to start getting ready, hoping Bernie would be okay surrounded by so many strangers. She immediately told herself to stop worrying. Bernie was perfectly capable of looking after herself after all. After a quick shower, she sat in her dressing gown drying her hair and doing her makeup. She rarely bothered with much beyond mascara and lipstick these days, and then only when she was on the mainland, but today she was going to a bit of extra effort. She wanted to look as beautiful as possible for Bernie. As she sat there, she pondered yet again about what Bernie would have chosen to wear. She would look amazing in whatever she had decided on.

Bernie had a very swift shower, little more than a hair wash and a quick scrub. She was anxious to get ready as quickly as possible so she could see Serena in the dress. She knew she was going to look absolutely magnificent. Bernie towelled her hair dry, then proceeded to swear a blue streak as she tried to twist it into a neat little bun. She must have managed it in the past, but she was damned if she could remember the knack. She was finally satisfied that it looked neat enough and started to get dressed. It felt incredibly strange to be putting on the full, formal uniform again after all this time. 

Just as Serena slipped into her Shiraz coloured shoes, she heard Bernie’s footsteps heading downstairs. She took one last look in the mirror, and smoothed down the material of her dress. “You’ll do Campbell.” She slowly made her way down the stairs, out of the habit as she was of wearing heels. At least she would have some of the absolutely best medical professionals in the country to tend her if she fell. That thought amused her. 

Serena got to the bottom of the stairs and was about to tell Bernie. The words died in her throat.

Bernie was crouching, fixing the bow tie and ring pouch around Jason’s neck. She straightened up, turned and saw Serena at the bottom of the stairs.

“S..Serena. You…you look...”

“Major Wolfe. My god….”

The rest of the words vanished as their lips met in hungry, passionate kisses.

Serena pulled back and rested her forehead against Bernie’s, “Darling, as much as I want to carry on. Oh god, I so want to carry on. But we have a dozen friends and a registrar waiting outside for us. You fix your hair, I’ll fix my lipstick and we’ll go out and get hitched shall we?” 

Bernie strode over to the mantlepiece and looked in the mirror. 

“Bugger.”

Five minutes later, with Bernie’s reluctant hair wrestled back in place, Serena’s makeup immaculate and Jason’s bow tie at a jaunty angle, the three walked out into the beautiful sunny day. 

 

The ceremony was a simple one. Serena and Bernie had discussed the option of writing their own vows and decided against it. Bernie didn’t like the thought of talking about just how deeply she was in love in front of other people. She still struggled at times with telling Serena quite how she felt, although she was getting better. Serena would have happily waxed eloquent for hours about Bernie Wolfe, but was content to do that in private. Often whispered, hotly in her beloved’s ear. 

So they stood in the spot where Bernie had proposed, in front of their friends, and declared their love and commitment to each other. Jason performed his Best Dog duties flawlessly and Helen declared them married. By the time they pulled apart from the traditional kiss, Bernie’s hair was a dishevelled mess and Serena’s lipstick was nowhere to be seen. 

It was only the pop of champagne corks that brought them back down to earth. The reminder that they weren’t alone. 

“I love you Serena Campbell. Thank you for making me the happiest woman the world.” murmured Bernie.

“I love you so much Berenice Wolfe. Come on, let’s go and drink some over-priced fizzy wine, shall we?” 

They went over and each accepted a glass of champagne. There were hugs and handshakes and offers of congratulations. 

Ric offered his opinion that Bernie was “A fine woman.” A sentiment that Serena very much agreed with. 

Henrik clasped a warm hand on her shoulder and wished her every happiness. This was the equivalent of a huge hug and kiss from most other people. 

There was one of Sacha’s signature bear hugs and a smaller one from Essie. 

Jac offered a cool congratulations and added “Welcome to the sapphic side, Campbell.” and her eyes softened as she looked across at Frieda who appeared to be deep in conversation with Jason.

“So you and Frieda are…?”

“We are.”

“Good.”

“Oh it is Serena. It’s very good indeed.” They exchanged an understanding smile.

Fletch offered his opinion that Raf was definitely smiling down on them today, which nearly had them both in tears. “He’s a big part of the reason I decided to represent with the kilt.” 

Serena told him to watch out for the breeze, which had a tendency to gust unexpectedly. “No one needs a surprise viewing of little Fletch!” Serena joked.

“Oi, less of the little, thank you!”

 

Serena suddenly heard Bernie shout from the direction of the marquee.

“MURIEL!” 

She hastily excused herself from Fletch and hurried over. Somehow, the feisty little hen had escaped yet again from an apparently secure enclosure. She had also somehow made her way into the marquee, on to one of the food tables and was currently arse up, head down in the big bowl of salad. 

“Bernie! How the hell did she…?”

“I don’t know, Serena. I just don’t know. I checked the fence this morning, as I do every morning, and it was secure. I can only assume she can fly a hell of a lot better than the rest of the girls and is managing to get enough lift to clear the fence.”

“Well Muriel has definitely developed the ability to make a dramatic entrance, that’s for sure. Either that or she just has an amazing sense of smell when there’s the possibility of a tomato on offer.”

“Serena, is that a chicken? I think it might be a bit underdone.” Fletch, ever the comedian.

Bernie and Serena turned to see nearly the entire wedding party crowding around the entrance, wanting to see what all the fuss was about.

“Sorry everybody, one of the hens seems to have flown the coop, quite literally. Muriel here already has form for escapology and can really pick her moments. If you can go back outside and give Bernie the chance recapture the little feathered menace, I’ll go and get some more salad.” Serena ushered everyone away from the marquee, not wanting to risk the crowd of people scaring Muriel into doing anything silly. 

Ten minutes later, fresh bowl of salad in hand, Serena re-entered the marquee. Bernie was stood, hands on hips and a look of frustration on her face. 

“No luck catching her, darling?”

“Strangely enough, as she has already gorged herself on almost all of the tomatoes from the salad, trying to lure her with another has proved unsuccessful. You know, I thought Muriel had stopped laying as she’s one of the older girls, but look, this was right in front of the wedding cake!” Bernie opened her hand to show a small brown egg. 

“I think we’ll just have to leave her to her own devices for now. Come on, let’s call them all in to eat while the food is still edible, shall we?” Serena put an arm around her wife’s waist, and kissed her temple, “I’m sure she’ll make herself scarce once the tent fills with people.” 

 

As everyone sat at the small round tables, enjoying the delicious homemade food, Serena heard Bernie telling a sanitised version of the story of the picnic and her proposal. She carefully omitted the parts featuring their afternoon of outdoor passion, and glossed over just how she had come to have half a cherry tomato plastered on her arse.

“I thought at first I had been stung. I looked around, and there was Muriel, pecking away!”

“Oh come on Fingers, she was only giving you a little peck on the cheek!” Sherlock called over.

“Sorry Captain, but I’m the only one who’s allowed to bite that peachy bum.” Serena replied, with a sly glance over at Bernie, who as Serena had anticipated, immediately went bright red. 

Suddenly, cutting across the conversation and the classical music still playing quietly in the background, came the distinctive opening bars of The Birdie Song. Everyone looked around to see who was playing it. Fletch. With a mischievous look on his face and his mobile phone in hand. 

“There’s absolutely no mobile signal out here. That means you already had The Birdie Song on your phone! Dad, your musical taste is so sad!” This was clearly not a new subject between Evie and her father. Fletch just shrugged, unapologetically.

“By the way, Mr Fletcher, you might want to keep your legs crossed and your kilt well tucked in. Muriel is still on the loose and I’m sure she’d enjoy a juicy little worm as much as she likes her tomatoes.” quipped Serena. 

“Oi, less of the little, thank you!”

A soft clucking sound drifted up from under the table. Fletch bent and looked down. Hazel eyes widened as they met a pair of beady, avian ones. He straightened, hastily crossed his legs and cradled his sporran protectively.

"You're terrible, Muriel!"


End file.
